


ain't nothing that i need

by bellowbacks



Series: fictober 2019 [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 09:10:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20863760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellowbacks/pseuds/bellowbacks
Summary: “Just follow me, I know the area.”





	ain't nothing that i need

When John woke up, nude except for the blood smeared across his face and chest, he felt dew settled on his skin and a thick feeling of remorse in his stomach. His back was up against a tree's thick roots and bark stuck into his skin. He groaned. At least he wasn't hungry. 

John managed to get to his feet despite the pine needles and grime digging into the rough bottoms of them, and he tried to figure out his surroundings. Nothing around him seemed familiar, and he ran his fingers through his hair. Of course he had left his usual area this moon. That was just his luck. 

There was a flickering light showing from between two thick trunks a while away, so John started towards it. Might as well start trying to get back somewhere. 

The cabin, when he reached it, seemed empty at first, but John knew that the lit lantern wasn't a good sign, so he peered in a few windows before trying the doorknob. It was unlocked, to his surprise, and he carefully stepped inside. 

It was empty, but there was evidence of life in the form of a half empty coffee cup, still warm, and a bed with blankets thrown astray. John immediately went over to the short dresser of clothes against the furthest wall and pulled out the first pair of pants he saw. 

They were a little big on him and threatened to slip down his hips, but they would do. 

As he was pulling a shirt out of the top drawer, he heard the door behind him creak open. He instinctively retreated, huddling in the corner with the shirt held tight against his chest. 

"Come on outta there, boy," the man who entered said, setting a couple of tied together rabbit carcasses down on a table that was pushed against the frontmost window. 

John stayed pressed against the wall. He could smell the scent of blood and dog on the other man, and it made him pause. 

"I said, come on, boy," the man said and started towards John. He was probably a few inches taller than John was, but he was three times as broad and obviously far more comfortable in his skin. 

John scrambled out of the corner and under the man's outstretched arm, trying for the door. 

"Oh no you don't," the man said and grabbed John by the shoulder, pulling him back. "You can't go out there lookin' like you are, you'll be hanged for that."

John fell back against the hardwoods, and the man held him down. John bared his teeth at him, showing off too-sharp canines and a wolfish turn to his lips.

"Yeah, I know, I know," the man grumbled. "Put that shirt on."

John scrambled away again, back against the bed frame now. He tugged on the shirt and quickly buttoned a few of the buttons. "I'll go," he said, his voice not quite a hiss, but the man shook his head.

"No, stay and eat, and then I'll walk you to town. I can't have you goin' out like that in my clothes, we'll both be killed for lycanthropy," the man chuckled. He shrugged out of a thick leather duster as John's blood ran cold. 

"I ain't- I ain't a wolf," he managed. "I just got caught out." It was a practiced lie, but somehow he knew this man wouldn't take it. 

"Yea, and I ain't either," the man said and shot John an amused glance. "Arthur," he said and held a hand out for John. John stared at it.

"John," he managed, and took Arthur's hand. Arthur yanked John up. 

"Grab some shoes and just follow me, I know the area," Arthur said and gestured to a trunk at the end of the bed. John pulled an old, worn pair of boots out and slid them on, then he followed Arthur out of the cabin and back into the familiar woods. 

The moon was below the horizon now, and the feral tug John knew better than anything else had subsided. 

"You're a wolf?" John asked quietly, and Arthur nodded. He shot John an amused glance. 

"Yea, have been for s'long as I can remember," Arthur responded. 

John didn't respond. The isolationism of being a wolf was so engrained in his skin and bones that knowing anybody else with his condition was... unbelievable. 

"Can I stay?" he said finally, minutes of walking through the forest later. 

"What, with me?" Arthur snorted. "I ain't good company, kid."

John shrugged. "I don't know another wolf."

Arthur laughed. "That much is obvious," he said. "If you help me out, hunt with me, do your chores, you can stay until next moon. Then we can talk about it."

John felt a warmth in his chest that he hadn't felt since before he became a wolf. "Thank you," he said and pulled Arthur's shirt tighter around his chest. Maybe this way, he could find a place to call home.

**Author's Note:**

> if u squint this can be ship i don't really care either way! come talk to me about cowboys @ bellowbacks on twitter


End file.
